


Truth in a Dare

by blowmeharry



Series: Games [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Awkward Sexual Situations, Hair-pulling, M/M, Overstimulation, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-02
Updated: 2013-07-02
Packaged: 2017-12-16 20:10:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/866120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blowmeharry/pseuds/blowmeharry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All is fair in love and war, but there are no rules to abide to here.</p><p>Innocence never exists a game of Truth or Dare. Niall decides it’s time for round two. (sequel to Truth or Dare)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Truth in a Dare

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the prequel if you haven't read it.  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/677653
> 
> This took me ages I hope you like it :)
> 
> Also, credit to Lizz (Swaghetti) for inspiration. Follow her at http://ziaourrys.tumblr.com/

Harry doesn’t know how it happened, how he somehow allowed himself to be dragged into this once again. He never really had a say in it, either. 

He’s sitting in his flat, watching an episode of _Game of Thrones_ (they’re on break and Harry has completely invested himself in this show, because really, it’s fantastic). Harry has, in fact, become so engrossed in the television series that he’s found he’s unable to think of anything beyond it. When he falls asleep he is mentally noting the characters’ synopsis and reflecting every event that has gone down in every episode. He thinks about Daenerys’ hair and how much he admires her true and altruistic persona.

And sometimes, when it’s late at night and Harry is tucked tightly in his covers, he thinks about other things. Things that still exist in his life, things that make his heart beat irregularly at times, but simply are considered insignificant to him since he chooses to only be concerned over fictional characters and things that aren’t necessary real. Maybe it’s easier that way.

Harry loves being in One Direction, but it _is_ nice to have a break. And he’s certainly thankful for the free time he’s been graciously given. It isn’t that Harry is necessary spending all his time by himself, but he doesn’t really mind it at the same time. Louis is still hanging around their flat, doing as he pleases, but leaving Harry alone. Only a few times has the older boy pestered him about his growing obsession, but it’s all said with a light and teasing tone, only to attempt at annoying Harry enough to throw a pillow at him to get him to leave. It has really happened only twice so far, so it’s not too bad.

Most of the time their only encounters are in the brief moments in the kitchen, when Harry finally leaves his room, to which Louis raises an eyebrow, resting a hand on his hip and saying something along the lines of “you finally left your cage, is everything okay?” And usually it results in Harry taking his tray of food away and simply glaring at the older boy. Louis just doesn’t understand.

Harry hasn’t forgotten about the incident that had taken place a month ago. Not that he’ll ever admit it, but he thinks about it more often than he should—nearly as often as he thinks about _Game of Thrones._ It’s a little sad, to be quite honest, that it crosses his mind when Louis clearly has forgotten all about it. Nothing big had happened between them, either. Ever since truth or dare that night, the two of them seemed to have pretended that it never happened. And it didn’t help that the night grew boring after they’d asked Niall to leave the room. Harry is certain their friend is still under the impression that something _did_ happen, and he probably won’t ever know the truth.

(Harry stared down at the smiling face, hearing the door slam along with the distinct sound of Niall mumbling something under his breath. Once confident about the situation, it was finally taking its toll on him. Glancing briefly at the boy’s hard on, he became fully aware of what he’d done. He’d just given his band mate—his best friend—a blowjob. And it didn’t help much considering Louis had enjoyed it, too.

“So,” Louis said, his eyes glued on Harry, causing the younger boy to itch all over from the sweat covering his body.

“So,” Harry repeated.

“This was fun.”

Harry nodded. “Fun.”

“I could—I mean, if you want me to,” Louis began, Harry swallowing to somehow clear the dry sensation in his mouth, “return the favour maybe?”

“Um.” Harry averted his eyes to the ground, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously. Trying to fight the surprised tint of colour that most likely littered his cheeks, he nodded shakily, knowing he wanted this more than anything. “Sure.”

Louis stared at him for a bit, biting down his lip and nodding slowly. “Okay.” Sitting upright, he faced Harry and gestured at him to lie down, but Harry shook his head. He wanted to see everything—needed to see it all. He almost wished Niall were still here with the camera because a memory wasn’t enough to remember tonight.

“I don’t really—” Harry cocked his head to hear what Louis had to say. The older boy looked surprisingly nervous for his alcoholic state, which worried Harry. “I don’t know how to do this...” Louis looked up as if he were searching for some kind of sign that Harry didn’t really want this from him. 

For a second Harry was embarrassed at the idea that he knew what he was doing when it had been him in Louis’ position because he had made it obvious that he’d had prior experience. On the other hand, Louis must be just as embarrassed for a reason exactly the opposite.

“It’s okay,” Harry finally brought himself to say. Forcing a laugh, he pressed a hand against his friend’s shoulder. “This was kind of...weird anyway.”

“Yeah,” Louis laughed with him. “I blame Niall.”

“I can’t believe he recorded us,” Harry continued to laugh, his hand still gripping onto Louis.

“God, so many regrets.”

They seemed to stop laughing at the same time, staring at each other for only a few seconds of intensifying silence, when Louis cleared his throat and averted his gaze. “I think I’m gonna go to sleep.”

Harry tried to hide the disappointment in his voice, but his attempt was futile. “Yeah? Me too.”

“I’ll see you in the morning if my hangover doesn’t kill me.”

“So I expect to see you on tomorrow night then?”

Louis grinned.)

Somehow, things have stayed normal between them regardless. Harry tells himself that Louis was probably too drunk to remember anyway, which makes him regret not taking another shot that night. Then again, he _did_ say he wanted to remember it all, even though it was almost painful for him to do so.

Harry doesn’t mind it so much despite how much it bothers him every now and then. He has a show to worry about and an image to protect, though he absolutely despises having to leave the house to take pictures out in public. Again, Harry is extraordinarily lucky to be so famous and to have four best friends, but at this point in his life he’d much rather sit in front of the telly.

He decides to cook one morning, since it had been a while. Harry figures Louis’ gotten sick of having to order takeout or attempting to make his own meals, so he might as well give it a go. He’s been watching a lot of _Doctor Who_ as well, and Clara Oswin and her soufflés had come to mind. 

Harry goes for chocolate soufflés since chocolate is the first thing he’s able to find. Plugging in his iPhone into the speakers, a mashup of Marina and the Diamonds and Panic! At the Disco begins blaring throughout the kitchen. It’s loud enough to wake Louis up, so he knows it’s a matter of time until he will come downstairs. 

“If history could set you free...” Harry begins to sing, humming along as he prances around the kitchen, grabbing all the ingredients he needs. He was whisking in the flour and the cinnamon into the bowl of melted chocolate when he feels his pants being pulled down, his arse exposed to the air.

The action catching him off guard, Harry surprisingly doesn’t react; he continues to stir the ingredients and hum to the music. When he feels a hand smack against his bare arse, he only sighs, acting as though this was a daily occurrence. When he’s putting the soufflés into the oven, he only smirks as he bends over, safely executing the task.

“Morning, Lou,” Harry says, tossing the utensils into the sink. He’s maintained security this entire time, but it seems that all hopes for sanity have died away when he feels Louis press up behind him.

“Morning, babe.” 

Still refusing to look at the older boy, Harry tries to ignore the warmth radiating from the body holding him from behind. 

“What are you making?”

“Soufflés,” Harry replies nonchalantly, a part of him wanting Louis to back away before he dropped something.    
  
“Don’t you have a show to watch?”

“ _Don’t you have a show to watch?”_ Harry mimics his condescending tone, trying to make it sound as though Louis was the biggest twat in the world, which was only _halfway_ true.

  
“Rude.” Louis gasps, resting his head on the taller boy’s shoulder. Harry’s thoughts stir wildly with the heat of the breath hitting his neck. “I was only concerned with your well-being, but apparently that’s wrong of me.”

Harry chuckles as he wipes his hands against a towel. “You’re a twat.” He smacks Louis’ arm with the damp cloth.

“And your cock is falling out.”

Harry’s eyes drop down to see his trousers hanging above his knees, Louis’ comment deemed correct. He can only sigh as he pulls up his pants, shaking his head with acceptance. “I hate you, you know.”

“No, you don’t,” Louis says like he knows _,_ the little shit.

Harry sighs again, turning away and bobbing his head to the music. “Sex, sex, sex, sex…”

Louis walks over to the fridge, retrieving a carton of orange juice. “Is that an invitation?”

“No, but pulling down my pants might have been.”

Louis shrugs.

Harry watches the soufflés in the oven for a minute or two before retreating to the breakfast table, grabbing a glass on his way and prying the orange juice from Louis’ hands.

“You know,” Louis takes a sip of his juice and gulps loudly. “We haven’t properly done anything together in like…forever. Are you free tonight?” He doesn’t give Harry a chance to respond because he’s just so sure of his reply. “I mean, if you’re all caught up on _Game of Thrones._ We can’t have you falling behind.”

Harry rolls his eyes, generously chugging from his glass. “I can go a day without the telly, thank you very much.”

“I didn’t know we were making a bet,” he says with all seriousness.

“What would you have us do anyway?”

Louis stares out the window for several seconds before cocking his head to the side and raising an eyebrow at Harry. “Dinner and a movie?”

At first Harry just stares at him until he senses that Louis is only screwing with him, so his first instinct is to snort. “If you’re asking me out, you could be more original.”

“Hey, you should be lucky I’m asking you out in the first place.”

“Are you?” Harry frowns. The thing about Louis…he’s never clear about whether he’s joking or being serious. Harry has learned that the hard way.

A loud ding shrills in Harry’s ear as he flies from his seat and to the oven. As he’s taking the soufflés out of the oven and onto the counter, he briefly compares himself to a housewife. With Louis around, he might as well be.

“These look amazing, Harry,” he says, patting him on the back. Harry breaks into a smile, and he’s so flattered that he nearly trips forward.

Harry makes his way around the kitchen, picking out two medium-sized forks from the silverware drawer. He sets the cutlery onto the counter, pointing at the pastries laid out in of them. “Take your pick.”

Louis takes the one on the left which has only a little bit more cream than the other. “Diabetes, here I come.”

They eat together, tossing Harry’s iPhone back and forth, changing songs almost every thirty seconds; clearly, neither of them are good with decision-making.

“This is really good,” Louis says with a mouthful.

“Oh, hush.”

“No, really, it is.” He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, his ramekin empty, save a few traces of chocolate.

“Well, thanks.” Harry grins, pointing his face downward to hide the fact that impressing Louis meant the world to him.

“Hold still,” he hears Louis say, and frowns, the boy’s finger reaching out to his face and gently caressing the side of his face. When Harry opens his mouth to question him, Louis licks the chocolate off his finger and grins. “You’re such a messy eater.”

The music is playing so loud that neither of them hears the doorbell, but Louis notices it first. He groans. “I’m so full I can’t even move.”

“I’m still eating.” Harry at least has a legitimate excuse.

“But you’re closer to the door.”

“ _Louis_.”

Louis groans again, pushing his chair out. “Fine.” He makes his way to the door, and he isn’t surprised to see Niall smiling at him. “This better be important. I was in the middle of something.”

Niall ignores him. “Do I smell chocolate?”

“Harry made soufflés. None left for you, though. Sorry.” Louis peers down at the bag hanging from Niall’s side. “What’s that?”

“Oh, nothing.”

Louis frowns.

Niall’s expression stirs quickly, and it’s like he’s overcome with excitement. “How’ve you two been? Also, great song. I love Cage the Elephant.” Right as he says that, though, Harry shuffles to the next song. The little shit.

“Why are you here?” Louis blatantly asks.

Niall pretends to look offended. “What is so wrong with coming over to visit my fellow band mates? No need to sound so accusatory—”

“Why are you really here?”

Niall sighs loudly. “Well. Promise not to laugh.”

“I can’t,” Louis tells him honestly.

“Okay. I was hoping you two were up for another round.”

Louis scrunches his eyebrows with confusion, and he hears Harry groan from behind. “Niall, no.”

“What?” Louis raises his voice. “What’s he talking about?”

Harry looks at him with an expression best described as a mix of annoyance and something else…something that has Louis hopeful for what he might say. “Truth or dare.”

Louis’ mouth falls into the shape of an ‘o’ and it takes him everything to keep a straight face. He doesn’t really know how to respond to that, but luckily his eyes fall down on the black bag by Niall’s side and give him something to talk about. “Is that the camera?”

Niall nods.

Louis exchanges a glance with Harry, and looks back at Niall. “It was fun last time. I’m down for a second time.”

“Me too,” Harry replies quickly, getting up from his seat.

“I mean, it’s all fun and games, right?”

“Right,” Niall agrees. “So?”

“I’ll start, I guess,” Harry says upon his return. “Niall?”

“Truth.”

“Um…shit.” He runs a hand through his curls, laughing a little. “Erm…I guess, uh…how far have you gone with a girl? Or a boy,” he adds quickly.

“Harry Styles asking the real questions since 1994.”

“Shut up, Louis.”

“Okay, well,” Niall takes a seat beside Harry, propping his feet up on the table. “I’ve given and received oral sex.”

“Boys or girls?” Louis butts in, always curious about his friend’s sexuality, as are many.

Niall smiles wildly. “That’s another question. Truth or dare?”

“Dare.” He should probably be a little concerned, thinking back on his last dare. Somehow, though, the thought only further excites him.

“Ring up Eleanor and tell her you’re pregnant.”

“Um,” Louis cocks his head and chuckles at the ridiculous request. “Are you sure that’s a dare?”

Harry sets a hand on his elbow. “Don’t you dare back out.”

“Yeah, you gotta do it,” Niall encourages him.

Louis shakes his head disapprovingly but takes out his phone. “You are ridiculous.” The wallpaper makes him burst into laughter. “Harry, I swear to god.”

“What?” Harry leans over to look at the picture, but Louis turns his phone away quickly.

“Nothing, nothing.” It isn’t fair that Harry has such a nice arse, but it certainly is a mystery as to how it had gotten here. Something Louis would rather keep a secret. Eleanor picks up on the first ring, and Louis has to clear his throat before he begins. “Hey, we need to talk.”

_“What?”_

“It’s kind of urgent.”

A pause. “ _I’m listening.”_

“Well, you see, we’ve done everything we can, but I’m afraid it is what it is.”

_“What?”_

She sounds alarmed. Louis tries not to snort. “Eleanor, I’m pregnant.” He hangs up. “And there went my sanity.”

Harry claps him on the back proudly. “That was beautiful.”

“You have ruined me.” He really has; it’s so unfair.

“Yeah? It’s your turn.”

Louis smirks at him, leaning dangerously close to his ear. He whispers huskily, “Truth or dare?”

Harry stares off a bit, in a rather deep daze for this particular moment. “Truth. I’m not quite ready for anything sexual yet.” He winks, and Louis wishes there were a universe where he didn’t have to suffer from the devil that was Harry Styles. 

“Ever been with a boy?” Louis asks nonchalantly. It’s just a bit of curiosity, _really._

“No,” Harry responds after a lingering moment of silence, but he speaks in a tone far from offending. “Niall?”

“What? Oh, one sec.” Their friend sets Harry’s phone back down, a familiar pop song blaring softly through the speakers. “Okay, um, dare.”

Harry stares blankly ahead before looking at Louis with a pleading look. “Any suggestions?”

“Hmm…” Louis tucks a hand under his chin, leaning against the table with deep thought. Deciding that the game needs to be kicked up a notch, he goes for it. It’s really hard to keep a straight face, though, because this isn’t the most appropriate request. “Tweet about your cock.”

Niall’s eyebrows furrow together, and he looks almost offended. “My cock?”

“Yes, that thing dangling between your legs.”

“You want me to tweet _about it?”_

“I believe that is what he said,” Harry interjects, crossing his arms.

Louis sees the younger boy from the corner of his eye and smiles. “We’re waiting.”

Niall stares ahead with the most irritated expression, his mouth pursed open and his eyes opening and closing with exasperation. Louis has to bite down his lip to keep from laughing. “Fuck it, fine.”

“Also, I will not be held liable for the damages,” Louis adds, that same glare Niall showed him seconds ago reappearing. Snickering, he takes out his phone and waits for his friend to publish the tweet.

“You’re a dick,” Niall mumbles, his fingers tapping loudly against his phone as he makes the post, his head shaking in a way as though he is reevaluating his life choices in that exact second. Finally, he drops the cellular device onto the glass surface and sighs with defeat. “I hope you’re happy. Our management should be knocking down the walls any second now.”

Louis squints his eyes suspiciously, averting his attention to his screen. Refreshing his timeline, he sees two new tweets from Niall and reads the first one aloud. “’My cock could do with some touching.’ Very nice,” Louis comments, but the second tweet is far from impressionable. “Bastard! Delete that!”

“No way.” Niall clutches his phone to his chest. “You brought this upon yourself.”

“Niall, _please!”_ Louis has now pounced into the other boy’s lap.

“Get away, you smell like girly shampoo.”

“That’s hardly a bad thing!”

“What did he tweet?” Harry demands, desperately trying to tear the two away from each other. “Lou, that’s my arm.”

“Sorry,” he says quickly, pulling away, but continuing to grip Niall’s wrist like it was his lifeline. “Please, Niall. I’ll do _anything.”_

“What did he tweet!”

“He told the fucking world that I had his phone,” Louis musters angrily, using his open hand to try once more.

He hears Harry chuckle, and if the boy wasn’t the most precious thing in the world, Louis might have slapped him in that moment. “That’s not too bad—”

Louis doesn’t fully understand why it bothers him so much, most of the reason having to do with the fact that Niall tweeted it without his consent. It only has a little to do with it being about “cocks,” which is an embarrassing subject altogether. This has all been embarrassing, to be honest.

“Okay, ow! Quit it!” Niall pushes Louis back hard enough to knock him over, but he manages to catch himself before he can. “I’m gonna delete it all in a second anyway, you should know that.”

Louis straightens his shirt and returns to his seat, a hand in his fringe and the other fumbling through his pockets for his phone; a frown on his face, the device is unable to be found.

“Where did you get this picture?”

An oh-shit moment at its finest, Louis scurries to snatch his phone from Harry, protectively tucking it away and moving his arms around, trying to act natural, trying to hide how uneasy he felt.

“Um…what?”

Harry tilts his head, smirking fondly much to Louis’ expense. “Never mind.”

Louis releases a breath he wasn’t aware he’s been holding, but he’s felt a little light-headed this entire time. “I hate you all, just so you know.”

Niall looks up from his phone. (Louis can only hope the tweets are gone by now, though the memory will never be erased. He will never see the end of this.) “Whose turn is it?”

“I guess I’ll go,” Harry volunteers.

“Wait, no, it’s my turn,” Niall points out, but then Louis sees him shrug. “Actually you can go. I can’t think of anything fun.”

Harry shrugs as well, positioning himself to the edge of the seat (he’s got Louis there as well). “Louis?”

“Dare,” Louis replies frantically. Perfectly aware of how eager he sounded, he accepts the fact without another thought. In fact, he feels so confident he decides to add, “No limits here.” He throws a wink in there while he’s at it. If this is his way of getting back at the Devil, he’s not going to half-arse it.

Louis might be imagining it, but he hears Harry gulp. “No limits? Okay then.” That stupid mischievous grin he’s wearing after he speaks only excites Louis a little bit. He sighs suddenly. “I hate to admit it, but this isn’t as fun as the last time. And maybe that has to do with the lack of alcohol, but I refuse to believe that.”

Louis only sort of understands what Harry is saying, and maybe he could make some sense of it if he wasn’t watching the boy’s mouth and how it moves with every sound he makes. Sanity has always been overrated, anyway.

“Clean fun doesn’t always have to be clean,” Harry says a little too confidently, which only slightly makes Louis squirm in his seat. He’s fine, _really_.  “Lou,” he speaks, and Louis’ head perks up immediately. He thinks that maybe if this were the beginning of a cheesy porno, his next words would include, ” _yes, master?”_ But thoughts aren’t always meant to become said words. “You still owe me from last time.”

Out of everything Louis could possibly say, he only manages to get out a weak, “I—” Of course, it’s better than the whine still trapped in the back of his mouth. It really doesn’t help at all that Harry says it all with such nonchalance. Harry is _never_ this blunt. Harry is supposed to be the shy and awkward boy Louis has become accustomed to. And now this Harry is thrown at him in the open out of nowhere. It’s hardly fair. “Yeah, I do.”

“Wait, what?” the Irish lad chimes in, and Louis wonders for a second how he would feel watching the two of them. It wouldn’t be the first time, either. “You didn’t…?”

“No,” Harry and Louis say in unison.

Niall’s expression drops into one of realisation. “Oh. Okay, carry on then.”

“Well?” Harry pushes his seat out, crossing his arms. “What are you waiting for?”

Louis folds his arms in the same manner, trying to play along. “How should I ‘return the favor’?” He can’t help but feel he could have phrased that better. Perhaps “ _how should I please you?”_ might have been the best words to use. So many regrets.

“Be creative.”

Niall scoffs. “Wow, that’s a lot of freedom in a dare. Should I get the camera?”

A grin tugs at Louis’ lips, again amused with how casual this all was. “Sign into your Pandora account while you’re at it. We can’t half-arse this.” He winks, making sure Harry was watching him. The second he looks away, though, it hits Louis faster than the speed of light that he doesn’t know what to do; he doesn’t know what Harry wants.

_Be creative._

Louis has always had a million ideas of the things he could do the boy with the wide smile and prominent dimples, but he’s fallen speechless now that he’s given the chance.

An idea spurring to mind, Louis thinks only briefly on the decision before standing up, straightening himself and leaving his phone on the table. Niall starts to reach for it, but Louis slams his hand over it. “Leave it be.”

Making his way over to Harry, he leans against his chair and watches him tentatively. Niall is struggling to find the right station, while Louis analyses everything that could go wrong. It isn’t that he’s afraid of doing the dare, but that he’s afraid of messing up. Sometimes it takes a lot more than an attempt to deem oneself worthy. Louis would climb Mt. Everest for Harry, but that doesn’t make this particular moment any less intimidating.

None of this would mean anything to him, anyway. There was no point to this game, either, just the three of them trying to entertain each other and maybe learn a thing or two. At least that’s what Louis will tell himself every time he’s forced out of his comfort zone today.

“So what are you doing then?” Harry asks right as club music begins blasting throughout the house. Not loud enough that it blocks out other sounds, but loud enough to get his feet moving, his heart pumping with anticipation.

Louis takes a deep breath, moving to stand in front of Harry. He holds his hand out. A true gentleman. “Come on.”

Harry grabs it without any hesitation, and Louis leads them into the living room. “Coming, Niall?”

“Yeah, hold on. There’s something wrong with the memory card.”

Louis and Harry sit side by side on the couch, the distance between their bodies more than just visible space. The older boy clears his throat, wishing there were something to say to make things less awkward. Louis convinces himself that it’s only the nerves playing their part.

“Do I get a hint?” Harry nearly whines.

Louis almost panics as he tries to think of a witty response. His mind decides to go blank instead. “Ever been given a lap dance?”

“Uh…no.” His face is so priceless Louis would give anything to frame it.

At least all competition is eliminated now, not that it guaranteed a positive outcome.

“So apparently Pandora is gonna start charging like three dollars a month now,” Niall says as he storms into the room.

Louis scoffs. “You act like it’s a big deal.”

The blonde-haired boy shrugs, pulling the lens cap off the camcorder. “Just saying.” He adjusts the camera for a bit, and finally, looks at both boys with a nod.

“Why do I feel like we’re making porn…” Louis mutters to himself, eliciting a laugh from the boy beside him.

“It’s best not to question it,” Harry speaks the word of God.

Niall clears his throat. “Ready?”

Louis lifts himself from the sofa, stretching both arms and keeping his eyes focused on the boy in front of him. Harry starts to get up as well, but Louis pushes a hand against his chest. “You just sit and enjoy, honey.”

He assumes Niall’s began recording because the music has grown progressively louder, and green eyes are watching him patiently. So he begins to move closer, wishing he had some alcohol to reassure him that all would go well. The camera behind him does nothing to help, either.

Louis looks down at Harry with a straight face, starting to move his hips with the music accordingly. His movements a little disheveled at first, he maneuvers his body to move slowly, his eyes watching Harry and then looking down at his own crotch, raising an eyebrow suggestively. Feeling a little stupid because he probably looks the opposite of sexy, he tries to overlook his mistakes. Somehow it takes him no more than a minute to gain enough confidence to press himself against Harry. Letting out a troubled breath (mostly from nerves but with the addition of sudden arousal), he throws both hands onto Harry’s shoulders, continuing to grind in sync with the bass. His hands fall onto the hem of his shirt as he begins to take it off in a way that was both blasé and sexy.

Louis backs away as the shirt comes over his head, Harry’s eyes glued to his bare chest. Grinning as he nears in once more, he sets on leg over Harry’s lap to fully press their crotches together, Harry’s body slumping down on the couch with every thrust. Throwing his shirt around Harry’s neck, he reels him closer and tries not to pay attention to the way the boy’s eyes widened with Louis riding his lap. He tries to pretend that Harry’s body isn’t grinding up against his either.

Backing away once more, he turns around to face the camera and places both hands behind his neck, shaking his arse and giving Niall a little smile. He walks backwards until his bum makes contact with Harry, grinding back against him. Arching himself back, he recedes into Harry until he’s practically lying down. Louis continues to move back against him, throwing an arm around the boy’s neck.

He climbs off of Harry’s lap only to turn back around, undoing his zipper as his hips make perfect rotations. Louis feels eyes on his more-than-noticeable bulge, which only encourages him to remove his trousers, his movements a little rough considering the tightness. In nothing but boxer briefs, he feels a little exposed, but it’s easier to move without the confinement of his jeans.

Harry can only watch Louis’ waist and the way his hips move so cautiously as his pants fall to the floor. He finds himself almost wanting to ask him if he was specialised in this field, because goddamn, this boy deserves to be showered with money (not that their current situation didn’t grant them that). There are a lot of things Harry wants in this moment, but what he craves the most is to be touched. He _needs_ it or he thinks he might explode.

Louis doesn’t spare him the benefit of the doubt, his legs crashing over Harry’s, his crotch pressing into Harry’s appreciatively, one hand on his shoulder and the other in the air. Harry can’t help the small whimper that escapes his throat, his head rolling back. Shifting his body around so that he is lying down across the couch horizontally, Louis continues to dance into his lap, Harry’s skin set afire as fingers skillfully roam his chest.

Harry’s erratic breathing is no match for the obscene movements made all to please him; Louis fucking knows what he’s doing, and it is really unfair. So Harry decides to equally ruin the boy, or attempt to. He presses his hands against Louis’ thighs, his grip whole and firm, making the best contact possible. He only hopes he’s done well, and the gasps Louis is making convince him for the most part.

“Louis Tomlinson is actually a pornstar. You heard it here,” he hears Niall say to the camera.

Louis begins to laugh, and that alone is enough to cause Harry to laugh as well, though he is in no way disagreeing with their friend.

“I dunno, a boy band definitely pays better,” Louis says, climbing off of his lap. Harry nearly whines in protest.

“They pay a lot in gay porn, apparently,” Niall informs him with a wag to his eyebrows. Nobody questions his knowledge on the matter.

Louis doesn’t bother dressing himself, instead settling down beside Harry’s hypersensitive body. “So whose turn is it?”

“You can go,” Harry says almost desperately, his voice growing soft; that can’t be said the same for his twitching cock.

Louis, still catching his breath, manages to think of an idea right away. “Do you suck cock, Ni?” Clearly their limits have stretched beyond.

“What?” Niall’s face flushes red, and he half-smiles. “I said dare—”

“I know that.” The oldest boy takes a deep breath, only trying to prepare his friend. “You can probably figure it out now, though.”

Niall’s eyes move around a bit as he takes the information in, and he nods his head slowly with understanding. “You or Harry?”

Louis can’t hold back the smirk tugging at his lips, so he doesn’t bother trying to hide his amusement. “Harry.”

“What?” Harry’s head perks up, his rather inappropriate thoughts of his best friend tossed aside momentarily. “What am I agreeing to?”

“Well, _Harold,_ you are going to do our friend a favour. It’s only fair.”

Harry frowns. If it has anything to do with the aforementioned “sucking cocks,” then he is only slightly worried. “What do you mean?”

“Make him feel good, Harry. Like you did to me that night,” he whispers that last part to him, causing an embarrassing shudder to creep over him. If Harry had a little less self-control, he would probably snog the boy senseless. Then again, _someone_ had to be mature here.

“Um…” Harry glances uncomfortably at Niall who looks fairly indifferent towards the suggestion. “If he’s okay with it—if he wants it, I mean.” If Harry had a genie, his first wish would demand a less awkward persona.

“I guess.” Niall shrugs.

“That’s the spirit.” Louis grins, making himself comfortable by fully dropping his head onto Harry’s shoulder. His second wish is to slow his racing heartbeat, even just for a second.

Niall begins to hand the camera over to him, but Louis shakes his head.

“I’m no cameraman,” he tells him, which is very true; little does Niall know he has further plans in store. Where this rush of ideas was approaching from is beyond him, but he’s thankful for it.

With a puzzled look, Niall retrieves the camera back at his side, looking at Louis patiently. Harry seems to be waiting for something to happen as well, and apparently it’s up to Louis to initiate.

“Well, go on,” he says.

Harry releases a sigh, nodding at Niall who sets the camera down beside him. He begins to undo his zipper, pulling his pants down to his knees and making himself comfortable on the sofa. He takes down his boxers next, and Louis bites his tongue to keep from laughing at the semi he’s sporting.

Lifting the camera to the air, Niall adjusts himself so that his head is lying over the arm of the couch, his body sprawled out. Louis nods approvingly at Harry who moves closer to their friend, pressing his thumb at the tip of Niall’s cock. An inaudible sound barely leaves Niall’s lips at the subtle touch, which was expected, encouraging Harry to wrap his entire hand around it. Louis watches as Harry works the boy’s cock, the way he’s able to expertly move along the length with every flicker of his wrist.

Coming to sit behind Harry, Louis carefully presses his hand into the nape of his neck, soft curls tickling his forearm. “Babe,” he says, looking over his shoulder to observe the beautiful job he’s executing. “Put your mouth on him.”

Harry turns his head but makes no eye contact with him, then leaning forward without a word. Louis, wanting to make a memory of the sight, moves to the edge of the couch, his hand still on Harry’s shoulder. He scrutinises every movement as Harry’s tongue makes tantalising licks to the tip of Niall’s cock, his lips stretched wide to fully take Niall into the expanse of his mouth.

Unknowingly, Louis begins to rub tiny circles into the boy’s back as if to remind him that it’s okay to advance. _You’re doing great, babe,_ he wants to say, but holds himself back for the sake of maintaining what little sanity he has left.

The camera a little shaky from Niall bucking his hips upward, Louis can’t bring himself to make him hold the device for much longer. Holding the camera over the two boys now, he feels his erection throb in his boxers when he realises that he is not only recording them, but that this is _high quality._ Goddamn it, Niall.

Louis traces his fingertips along Harry’s spine, bringing his hand to stroke the hair at the top of Harry’s head generously. He tries to ignore how desperately he needs to touch himself, how much he envies Niall’s position.

“You’re—you’re really good with your mouth,” Niall breathes, causing venom to boil in Louis’ blood.

He clears his throat. “Yes, he is.”

Angling the camera over Harry’s shoulder, he catches the scene precisely, every breath and moan captured on film. Louis wonders if this is how porn was made, the extent of the cameramen’s involvement questionable. Thinking back on it, maybe it wasn’t the best idea to record the three of them doing unsuitable acts, considering the risks of the videos extending to the public. Somehow, though, Louis could see himself getting off to the possibility of getting caught.

The thought causes a shudder to rise from his throat. “Make him cum, Harry,” Louis mumbles against the crook of his neck, the camera carelessly set behind him so that his arms are free to wrap around Harry’s waist. “For _me,_ ” he says at the exact moment his fingers brush against Harry’s crotch, causing the lad to jolt back in surprise. But he relaxes right away into his touch, continuing to take Niall’s cock like it was his fucking job.

Tugging on the curls beneath his hand, it takes everything for Louis to hold himself back from touching himself, though he desperately needs a release. Watching Harry’s head bob up and down, synchronising with the music, makes it difficult to keep his fingers tangled in Harry’s hair without pulling too hard on it; eventually, though, Louis can’t help himself from jerking the curls.

“Ugh,” he hears Niall say with a gasp, his cock sliding between Harry’s lips in an impeccable speed. Louis can hear Harry gag as he struggles to swallow his cock inch by inch, and then Niall slows himself until he comes to a stop. Harry gulps down the substance loudly, only taking him a matter of seconds, and pulls his mouth off with a pop.

“Fuck,” Niall tries to catch his breath, while Louis lifts the camera from his side, pinching the crook of Harry’s neck approvingly.

“You were so good, babe,” he says. “So good for him.”

“Lou.” Harry turns his head to the side, breathing hard. “It’s—it’s your turn, I think,” he says, his cheek brushing warmly against Louis’. “Truth or dare?”

Louis only ignores Harry for a second to hand the camera back to its rightful owner. “Kind of shitty, to be honest. Like I said, I’m no cameraman.” He wishes Harry didn’t have to breathe so hard on his neck. It was really, really unfair. “Dare,” he replies to him.

“Fuck me,” Harry says casually.

Louis nods. “Alright.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he says, getting up from the couch, his legs popping from having sat down for a long period of time. “Niall, get your arse back here! Where are you anyway?”

“Sorry, I—” The blonde-haired lad dashes back into the room, camera and cord in hand. “I need to charge it.”

“We’ll live.”

Niall drops himself next to Harry after plugging the device into the wall. “What are we doing?”

Louis looks down at the beautiful boy still seated on the sofa, waiting for his imagination to turn into reality. Louis wonders how Harry did it: how he’s able to sit there and wrap the older boy around his finger without any further ado. Harry thinks he’s hot shit; he thinks he has _such_ effect on Louis. Yeah, well, Louis is just going to have to show him that the world doesn’t revolve around him (he only wishes that were the truth).

“I need you to get Harry ready for me,” Louis orders Niall. “Open him up nice and well.”

Niall’s life nearly flashes before his eyes.

Louis pats him on the shoulder supportively. “I believe in you.” He exits the living room with a devious smile.

“Wait, where are you going?” Niall hollers, panic in his voice. He receives no response. “Fucking hell.” As if the blowjob wasn’t enough to satisfy the oldest boy; Louis just had to test him. The subject of Niall’s sexuality couldn’t be left alone.

Harry doesn’t say anything, which disappoints Niall only a little; he’s been hoping that the younger boy might initiate it, if it absolutely _must_ happen.

“So…” Niall begins, hoping to start something.

“So.”

“Do you—y’know…wipe down there?” Niall asks, blushing.

“Yeah?” Harry says, crossing his arms. Niall hopes he hasn’t made him uncomfortable.

He evaluates the situation copiously. “Do we need, um, lube?”

“Maybe, yeah.”

“Should we wait for Lou to get back?”

“I think so.” But Harry looks just as clueless. “I guess we can start if you’re ready?”

“Yeah. Should I wash my hands or something?”

Harry gives a shaky nod. “Not a bad idea.”

Taking that as his cue to leave, he tries not to run out the front door as he makes his way into the bathroom. Throwing cold water onto his face, he leans forward, looking at himself in the mirror. _Just pretend he’s a girl and get it over with,_ he tells himself. _It can’t be any different._

Niall makes his way back to the living room after spending several minutes composing himself. Louis and Harry are whispering something to each other across the couch, and they don’t seem to stop after their friend has entered the room. Niall has always wondered if there’s been something going on between the two, something too oblivious for them to recognise.

“Oh, hey. I brought stuff.” Louis grins, gesturing to a black bag set on the arm of the couch. “Is the camera done charging?”

Niall shrugs. “It’s over there if you want it.”

“There’s lube in the bag!” Louis calls out.

“Fantastic,” Niall mumbles, taking it out and looking at Harry expectantly.

Deciding that now’s a good as time as any, Harry begins to shimmy out of his jeans, tugging off his boxers, his skin a bit cool finally exposed to the air. Clueless as to what to do next, he lifts his legs up, his face flushing with the realisation that neither of them knew what they were doing. “Do you want me on my back, or…?”

Niall stares at him. “Stomach might be easier.”

Harry laughs a little, probably to ease the awkward tension. “You’re right.”

As the youngest boy moves into position, Louis admires the view as he returns with the camera.

“I’ve never done this before,” Niall admits, his face scarlet.

Louis snorts. “Clearly.” Still standing, his eyes drop to Harry’s bare arse; he’s lucky his hands are full. Louis senses that Niall is a bit unnerved, so he rubs his friend’s shoulder. “Relax. I’ll lead you through it.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?” Louis wanders around for a bit, trying to decide where he should situate himself. He wants to watch Harry’s reaction, wants to watch him get off, but he also wants to watch the task as it’s being executed. Decisions, decisions. Clearly, he would be moving a lot today. “Okay, uh, get some lube on your finger and rub some onto him.”

“Yeah,” Niall replies, way ahead of him. Harry shifts his hips to give him a better angle, and Niall tries to gulp his worries and doubts as he coats his hand between Harry’s cheeks.

“Turn around, Harry. Need you to loosen up.”

As usual, nobody questions his commands, the younger boy following through his demand and lying on his back now. His cock still rock hard, Louis has to admit he’s impressed.

“Okay, now put your finger in. But be gentle,” Louis says the last part softly, knowing that if he were in Niall’s position, he’d be concerned over the possibility of hurting Harry. He would never intentionally do so.

Niall does as he’s told, pressing his digit against Harry’s hole, diligently trying to ease his way in. He tries not to think about it too much, the fact that he’s got his finger up his friend’s arse, and manages to reach knuckle deep into the warm heat.

“Doing fine, Harry?” He’s surprisingly well.

“Yeah, just feels kinda funny.”

Louis grins a little, looking back at Niall to see his finger still in place. “Move now. _Slowly_.” Setting the camera onto the coffee table, he sits himself on the ground. On his knees, he watches as Harry’s body writhes as Niall’s finger moves through him.

“Another,” Harry says, giving the instruction.

Hovering over his body, Louis observes Harry moving a hand over to his cock, but some unknown force causes him to grab the boy’s hands and tuck them at his side.

“Me,” he explains, gently dropping his hand onto Harry’s chest. Harry stares back at him, his body squirming under Louis’ hand. The way the boy’s pupils dilate cause Louis to gulp loudly because nobody should be allowed to be so attractive. If Harry’s stomach wasn’t flexing against the couch, the hand now set over his cock caused Harry’s breath to hitch, a sigh of contentment to leave his mouth.

“Let me know if it’s too much,” Louis tells him, Harry’s head nodding approvingly, his eyes watching the older boy’s hand pumping his cock. It is all a little too much, combined with Niall fingering him, but he doesn’t want it to stop either; unfortunately, though, an embarrassing whimper leaves his mouth, which causes his face to go scarlet.

“Fuck,” Louis groans, and that’s all it takes for him to palm himself through his underwear. He’s waited far too long.

One hand on his friend’s cock, the other in his boxers, he sighs with satisfaction. Looking back at Niall, Louis notes that he’s doing a remarkable job.

Niall’s train of thought, as one might imagine, is a jumbled mess. As he watches his fingers disappear into Harry’s hole, he thinks, _it’s pussy, it’s pussy, he’s fingering pussy. He’s not fingering Harry. He is_ not _fingering his best friend._ Mental shouting can only go so far, though, because this is really happening. And oh God, Louis’ even got his hands down his pants. Clearly any limits that might have been there before no longer exist.

He’s going with it, though. They all seem to be doing so.

“You look so good like this,” Louis says softly to Harry, both hands working at the same speed. He can’t remember ever holding two cocks at once. The fabric too much of a bother for him now, Louis manages to get himself out of the boxer briefs without his hand ever leaving Harry.

He’s getting close, and it’s almost embarrassing that it’s only taken him about thirty seconds to reach this point, but he has been holding out. His hands move in smooth strokes on both cocks, his breaths growing shakier with every jerk.

Niall is the first to notice, Harry far too preoccupied. “Hey, Lou? Uh…you think you could maybe…cum on him?”

The words themselves are enough to throw him off the edge, but he manages to prop himself on the edge of the couch, his cock hovering above Harry’s face. Harry catches on quickly and snaps his eyes shut right as messy stripes of white splatter across his cheeks, nose, and mouth.

“Damn,” Louis says, his voice rather shaky. He stifles a small giggle and enjoys the view as his wet hand runs over his dick a final time. He wants to tell Harry how _delicious_ he looks with cum on his face, but it’s much too dirty, and Harry is already falling apart without any of Louis’ sweet words.

Far more relaxed now, Louis shifts back on the ground, his body much too sensitive to even think about dressing himself. He has a feeling that this wouldn’t be over anytime soon, either.

Harry licks his lips, the salty substance no longer glossy and visible in that particular area. It’s really a wonder what the boy went through to please Louis; he’s swallowed so much today. He’s doing so well.

Louis is obviously still hard and it’s still very much arousing to watch Niall finger Harry. Seeing that he’s three fingers deep, Louis decides to give him a challenge. “Add another one.”

Surprisingly, Harry’s expression doesn’t faze.

Niall, however, raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure, I—”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” He nods, moving his hand upward to make room for the fourth finger. As Niall eases his way in, a sharp groan leaves Harry’s mouth, like it’s absolutely painful, but the sound somehow makes its way to Louis’ dick. Louis’ never been fingered, and he can’t possibly understand, so he’s a bit worried too.

“Too much?” Niall asks, stopping.

“No, he can take it.” Louis is definitely going to stop talking. Starting now.

Harry looks up at Louis, feeling sweat gather in beads across his forehead. He gulps, his insides tensing at the fingers still in him. “Yeah, Niall,” he grunts out, blinking wide-eyed at Louis with drops of cum still hanging in his eyelashes. Louis nods with assurance, his hand still over Harry’s cock. “I-I can take ‘t.”

Louis begins pumping his cock as to ease the anticipated pressure as Niall takes the bottle of lube and squirts almost a little too much into Harry’s hole. The three fingers slip into him too easily, and Harry releases a strangled gasp when Niall begins to force the fourth finger inside.

“Okay?” Niall says and Harry nods in confirmation.

The eldest boy moves his wrist with expertise, Harry’s eyes clammed shut with soft swears leaving his lips. He rubs his eyes with both hands; nothing he’s experienced has ever overwhelmed him to this degree. He has to admit, the fingering part is a little weird, since Harry feels no sexual attraction to Niall, but he supposes it feels nice and Louis’ here too and that’s all that really matters.

Louis’ combing his fingers through Harry’s curls, which for the record, are part of the masterpiece he has graciously left behind. “I imagine that feels really good, yeah?”

Harry manages a shaky nod. Louis doesn’t bring up any new points, but it begins to swallow him just _how_ overwhelmed he is with the pleasure he’s receiving from both ends of the spectrum, and he isn’t sure he’s going to last any longer.

“Have to—going to come,” Harry breathes, waiting for Louis to give him permission to do so.

However, Louis doesn’t say anything to him. Instead, he presses his lips into a smile and slowly shoves his finger into Harry’s mouth, for only a second (or two) wishing it were his dick.

Try as he might, Harry makes his second attempt at reaching out to Louis, but only muffled sounds leave his mouth as he sucks on the finger placed between his lips. He can feel Niall’s fingers moving slick inside him, Louis’ hand moving on his cock, the colourful sensations too much for his body writhing desperately for release.

“Go on,” Louis says, amused that Harry has managed to hold himself back for so long. He wonders if Harry gets some sick sort of pleasure from being ordered around, because that would make how Louis feels somewhat mutual.

Harry comes in trembling movements, his hips shaking, his teeth gritting together as to somehow hold back the obscene sounds he’s involuntarily making. A poor attempt on his part, really. The sticky substance splatters onto Louis’ hand, but he continues to work his wrist through the younger boy’s orgasm while Niall tries to find some grip on reality.

Pulling his fingers out of the wet heat he’s frankly become accustomed to, he releases slow and steady breaths. Niall tries to somehow convince himself that this little event never happened, that he wasn’t responsible for pushing Harry over the edge, and that he didn’t touch his friend in what was possibly the most sexual way one could imagine. He may have brought it upon himself after all. It’s all something to add to his list of regrets, anyway; coming here today is definitely at the top.

Feeling rather sick to his stomach for possibly no particular reason (maybe the fact that his dick is as hard as his hold on his camera), Niall stands up and stretches his limbs. “I have to go do something. I’ll be back, though.” He lowers his voice. “ _Please_ , let the show go on.”

Harry and Louis immediately beam with excitement at the thought of the two of them alone. Still, learning from what had occurred (or what had not occurred, in this case), Harry should expect nothing at all. He _had_ asked Louis to fuck him, though, but with his luck it had all probably been reckless banter.

He watches Niall leave the room and realises he’s been in the same compromising position for over five minutes with no intentions of moving. Harry’s never been fingered before, by himself or anyone else, so this is quite a bit to take in. He likes experiencing new things, though, and doesn’t really have a problem with any of this. As long as it’s Louis it’s fine.

“Are we going to do this or what?”

Harry leaps about ten feet into the air. “W-what?”

Louis scoffs because the boy is the cutest thing he’s ever seen, especially when he’s having a moment of panic. “You still want me to fuck you, right?”

Harry swallows hard. “Right.”

The older boy, conveniently undressed, makes his way on top of the sofa, the spot still warm from where Niall had been sitting. Looking down at Harry and his submissive position, he decides he likes this view a lot. Maybe liking boys is going to subsequently send him to hell, but fucking the Devil will guarantee him a discount. So be it.

“Okay.”

He hears the door slam, marking Niall’s exit, leaving only the two of them now. He can’t refuse to admit that he’s a little nervous, but he’s wanted this for the longest time and he’s going to take advantage this time. Louis Tomlinson is going to finally have his way with Harry.

The younger boy shifts himself upward onto the recliner, his body sat up, this way he’s nearly at eye level with Louis. According to the rest of the experiences they have shared, Harry wants to see everything.

He sighs sharply.  

“What?”

“I just hope this lives up to my fantasies in the X-factor house.” The snarky boy seals the statement with bloody bite to his bottom lip. Louis is blushing so hard he wishes there were a pool nearby so he could drown himself. “Try not to disappoint me.”

“ _Please_ , Harry. I guarantee you will get more than you bargained for.”

“Alright.”

“Condoms?” Louis asks, his eyes falling onto the black bag neglected to the side.

Harry shakes his head. “I want to feel you.”

Louis feels his cock twitch at the thought. “I—okay.”

The beginning is awkward itself, but the teasing hopefully lessened some of the existing pressure. Louis actually expected different; he’d thought this would go by in a rush, and they’d (try to) forget about it later (he’d also assumed nothing would happen, because there’s always rational thinking).

As his tip presses against Harry’s hole, Louis examines the sight before him. His dick is actually there, and Harry is right there, waiting to take it. Never did he imagine his wildest dreams would ever come to life, and yet here they were.

Slowly moving into him, Harry takes a sharp intake of breath. Louis stops all at once.

“What? What? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah…yeah, just surprised me.” Harry giggles, though his face is void of any silly emotion.

Understanding that Harry is reasonably nervous, he caresses his fingers along Harry’s chest, causing his skin to shudder. Louis keeps a hand on the boy’s cock, slowly pumping him as he pushes himself further, and feeling the tight heat clench around his cock is nearly enough to tempt him to quicken his speed. Harry relaxes, no sounds emitting from his mouth, only the sight of the rising and falling of his chest with every steady breath he takes.

He watches Louis and the way he moves so carefully, like he truly cares about Harry’s wellbeing. He might be in love.

“Okay,” Harry says.

“Faster?” Louis sounds almost desperate. _He is._

A barely audible moan escapes his lips as Louis begins to move a tad faster. Harry’s hand, once resting above his head, drops over the hand pressing into his chest. The brush of his skin against the older boy’s sends a spindling shiver through Louis’ body, and it really doesn’t make anything easier.

“Give it to me,” Harry demands, gritting his teeth. If he’s had any shame about being vocal before, he has a feeling he might regret this later. But fucking hell, he needs this and Louis’ adamant on getting his way as well. “Give me all you’ve got. I _need_ you.”

“Shit,” Louis gasps, a shudder of heat traveling throughout his body with every word the boy muttered in that fucking deep and husky voice. People like Harry really shouldn’t exist.

Still very considerate about the other boy, he finds himself moving quicker in a way that, obviously, gives that unquenchable high without completely overwhelming. Louis fears he hasn’t got very long, though.

“Alright,” he says, giving in to Harry’s demands. Frankly, it takes quite a lot of work to thrust, but he’s had his practice (on stage as well as weekly exercise) and he’s definitely in the right mode. He knows Harry will be unbelievably sore later, but in a good way. That satisfying thought is enough to bring Louis to push Harry’s legs further into the air, skin-to-skin sounds as he shoves himself repeatedly, shuddery sounds erupting from the younger boy.

Leaning over the larger body beneath him, Louis presses kisses along Harry’s jaw, his mouth trailing down to his neck where he softly sinks his teeth into the designated skin. Muffling a moan, Harry’s head falls back, his every being engulfed with pleasure he never thought he’d experience. Louis leaves god knows how many marks on Harry’s skin, but the fingers gripping and pulling the skin on Louis’ back is certainly fair game.

Harry looks at Louis earnestly. He’s so beautiful like this: feathery hair falling into his face, his forehead streamed with sweat, his eyelashes fluttering with every blink, his glossy eyes staring back at Harry as if this means more to him than a silly dare.

He knows it would happen soon, but when it did, all Harry can do is frown and adjust to the new angle. “ _Oh_.”

Louis brings one hand to rest onto the boy’s hip. “Okay?”

“Yeah, just—fuck, keep doing that.”

Louis frowns, continuing to move at the same pace, hitting the desirable spot repeatedly. “This?”

“ _Yes._ Don’t stop,” he nearly whines.

“’M getting close, love,” Louis admits, but some of the tension dies away with the slamming sound of a door.

Harry doesn’t notice, however. Tired of being submissive and just _taking it,_ he juts out his hips, fucking himself onto Louis’ dick as Louis continues to thrust as well, every part of him now burning, so exposed and so much pain that it feels really fucking good.

Niall drops his keys onto the kitchen counter and makes his way into the living room. His eyes connect to the curve of Louis’ arse as he plunges into Harry who’s putting in about the same amount of effort, and damn, they’re really into it. _I leave for ten minutes and this is what I return to,_ is what he thinks, because frankly, he’s too afraid to say anything.

There’s no warning when it happens, and Harry isn’t even aware that it’s happening until it does, but there are white splotches of his cum covering Louis’ chest and a feeling of satisfaction as Louis continues to move inside him. The contracting muscles are enough to clench around Louis, causing him to fall apart as well. Unlike the fact that he’s kept quiet give or take the low groans and erratic breathing, Louis is more vocal when he comes.

“Fuck,” he mewls, biting hard on his bottom lip. Warm liquid gathering around him, he pulls out and slams back in slow and firm thrusts, until he is surrounded by warmth and bliss. Niall has to adjust himself on his seat as he clears his throat, watching as Louis let himself fall on top of Harry, the two of them sighing contently.

“Oh,” Niall says. “Well.”

“Niall,” Louis mumbles, his voice very soft and absolutely wrecked. “You can come here, we don’t bite. Pull up a chair. Come have a nice hard wank.”

Niall pretends he didn’t hear that, but his face is flushed anyhow. “Is the game still going? Or are you two just fucking for the hell of it?”

Harry answers this time. “What do you think?”

“I mean, are we still playing the game? Or are you both going for another round or something.”

Louis looks at Harry and shrugs. “I’m kinda hungry.” He looks at Niall with hope in his eyes.

“I’ll order some pizza,” he says with defeat.

Still lying side by side on the couch, Louis doesn’t think he ever wants to leave this spot. He’s sure Harry feels the same way.

Harry turns to his side. “So, are we going to talk about this?”

Louis grins, quickly pressing a kiss to Harry’s left cheek before sitting up. “What’s there to talk about?”

Harry can’t help but smile back, though he doesn’t fully understand.

“Niall, get your hands out of your pants!” Louis hollers, smirking.

The blonde-haired boy peeks out of the other room, his middle finger the only part of him in sight. He is definitely having that nice hard wank.

“Leave him alone, man, he feels awkward enough,” Harry informs him.

Louis begins to dress himself. “He definitely gets off to this. Why else does he record it?”

It’s a valid point.

“Just wondering, did you ever delete that tweet?” Louis yells at Niall. He gets no answer. “Niall?”

Now standing beside the older boy, Harry sets a hand on the shorter boy’s shoulder, gripping him lightly. “Just let it go.”

Louis beams at the gentle touch, leaning closer to the precious boy. He can only hope for the best from this point on, but Harry’s already ruined him.

“But—”

He’s cut off by Harry slamming their lips together, keeping them pressed together long enough to cut off Louis’ circulation. His heart racing, his lips hurting a little, he feels a little lightheaded when he pulls away and nearly falls backwards.

“You’re so mean to me,” Louis protests, crossing his arms. “You monster.”

“You’re the monster in bed.”

Louis opens his mouth to say something back, but he hears Niall groan obnoxiously in the background.

“You can’t say we disgust you! You like it!”

“I’m going to flush my head down a toilet,” Niall says.

“I’ll join you.”

Harry puts his hands on his hips. It’s been such a long day it’s hard to believe it’s still the fucking afternoon. “Well. This has been great, but I have a show to get back to. Daenerys is at the top of the kingdom.”

“ _Game of Thrones_ and pizza it is,” Louis says, unable to find it in himself to be annoyed.

“I’m sure you’ll enjoy it. There are plenty of sex scenes to keep you entertained.”

Louis grins. “I don’t know. You’re entertaining enough.”

This time both Niall and Harry groan.

“I’m sorry. That was terrible. Irrefutable. Absolutely dishonorable.”

Niall sighs loudly. He is so done with these two idiots. “I am going to find the remote now.” His hands travel along the surface of the couch and then he stops. “Oh my _god._ What is this!”

Niall dashes from the room, a wet substance sticking to his fingers. Harry and Louis burst into laughter. 


End file.
